Empire's Children

by Patricia Weerakoon

  ‘Mr Rasiah, is something the matter?’ Anthony asked. His heart cried out, please tell me she’s all right.

  Mr Rasiah wheeled round to face him. ‘Mr Ashley-Cooper, I need to leave immediately for Colombo. I don’t know when I’ll be back.’

  ‘What’s the matter, Mr Rasiah?’ Anthony took a deep breath. ‘Can I help at all?’

  The Tea-maker’s face and shoulders sagged. ‘Mr Ashley-Cooper, you’re a good man. I wouldn’t normally share this with anyone outside the family, but I trust you. It’s my daughter, Shiromi. She tried to kill herself.’

  Anthony’s chest constricted. Mr Rasiah was looking down and didn’t notice the fear and horror on Anthony’s face.

  ‘She tried to drink pesticide. The cook, Raaken, stopped her just in time. But the apothecary says she’s depressed and needs specialist treatment in Colombo.’

  Anthony turned away from him and looked out at the clearing sky. He breathed deeply, trying to focus on the moment, not on the memory of her face and her tears.

  ‘Do you know what caused it?’

  ‘No, she won’t talk to us. She hasn’t said a thing since it happened early this morning. That’s why we need to get her to Colombo as soon as possible.’

  Anthony stayed silent. I caused it, he wanted to scream back. She loved me. I tried to do what is right and I nearly killed her in the process. So, Mr Rasiah, what do you think of your trustworthy, good-man superintendent now, eh?

  Anthony turned. ‘You can have the leave, of course. Take as long as you need.’ Reaching in his pocket, he took out his cheque book. He wrote out a cheque for fifty thousand rupees, tore it out and handed it to Mr Rasiah. ‘Consider this an early bonus payment for your work this year. Psychiatric treatment is expensive. Please get her the very best.’

  The Tea-maker looked at the cheque and then raised his face to Anthony. The gratitude in the eyes of the usually proud man wrung at Anthony’s heart.

  He held the cheque in both hands. ‘This is an answer to prayer, sir. Thank you.’

  ‘God go with you, Mr Rasiah.’

  Anthony watched Mr Rasiah jog up the path to the Tea-maker’s house.

  It was the first time in their acquaintance that the Tea-maker had addressed Anthony as sir.

  Chapter 28

  Two years later ... March 1969 Nuwara-Eliya

  Lakshmi stood before the matron of the Salvation Army children’s home. Tears streaming down her cheeks, her body trembling with horror at what matron had just said.

  ‘Aiyoo, amma. How can you just give him away like that? I am his mother. You know that I am saving money. I was going to get a proper job in Diyatalāwa and get a house. Aiyoo, my baby!’

  The matron clasped Lakshmi’s shoulders. ‘Lakshmi, you signed the papers for adoption a week after you gave birth to Daniel. What happened to you is too common a story. But we could see even then how hard it was for you. Most girls don’t even want to see the baby. You loved him. That is why we let you come to see him. But you would never have been able to care for him.’

  Lakshmi dropped to the floor and cradled her face in her hands. ‘Amma, I am earning. I am saving money. I work on my off day also.’ She sat curled on the floor. The horror of rape, the shafting pain of rejection by the Rasiah’s, these were nothing to the searing devastation of the loss of her child. What reason was there for her to live?

  Matron squatted by her. ‘Lakshmi, you are thinking of yourself, not of your son. What sort of life can you give him? A small shack in Diyatalāwa? Scraps of food you bring home from the Hemachandra house? And how will you continue working with a child in the house?’ She stroked Lakshmi’s head. ‘Your son will be well looked after. The person who adopted him will give Daniel a good home and the very best education.’

  ‘No,’ Lakshmi wailed. ‘Aiyoo. Tell me where he is. I will go and get him back.’

  The rhythmic pressure of the matron’s hand on her hair did nothing to calm the storm of agony in Lakshmi’s soul. Yet even as she struggled, she knew the inevitability of what had happened. And she realised that it was best for her son. He was only two years old. He would forget. She never would. She had taught him to call her amma. Matron hadn’t been happy about that. Now he would have someone else as his mother. Her beautiful boy, conceived in pain and sorrow. His skin and hair all gleaming gold, his eyes the blue of a clear sky. Her tears were for her as much as for Daniel.

  A thought flashed through her mind. Surely matron would not have given Daniel to that man? His … she couldn’t even think the word. Daniel’s father?

  ‘Amma,’ Lakshmi grabbed matron’s hands. ‘Amma, you didn’t give Daniel to that man, Udatänná Periadorai – William Ashley-Cooper?’

  Matron smiled. It was a tired smile, one that conveyed the emotions of having experienced great sadness. ‘Lakshmi, the Rasiahs tell me that Udatänná Periadorai doesn’t even know that there was a child from that day. No, we didn’t give Daniel to him.’

  ‘Then who, amma?’

  ‘No. We can’t tell you that, Lakshmi. It was part of the contract that you signed. The only way we will reveal your relationship to him is if Daniel himself comes to us. That will be when he is grown up.’

  ‘I will never see him again?’

  Matron got to her feet and drew Lakshmi up to stand with her. She led her to a bench. ‘Lakshmi,’ matron drew her down on the bench and put her arm around her, ‘go back to the Hemachandra house. They are good people.’ She looked into Lakshmi’s eyes. ‘Give up the other thing you do.’

  Lakshmi drew back from matron’s embrace. How could this be? How did she know? ‘Amma,’ she stammered. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘You work as Devi. I found out from another girl who saw you here with Daniel. She too, used to work with Malar. Got too old and no one wanted her. So she works here now. But she visits Malar in Diyatalāwa. She told me you work as Devi.’ Matron looked Lakshmi up and down. ‘That you are popular because you are clean and pretty and also because you speak English.’

  Lakshmi stared away from matron. There was a spider’s web on the ceiling. A fly flew into the web. She watched as the spider approached the fly. She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

  Matron turned her face back. ‘Lakshmi, Hemachandra Mudalali and Hamine are good people but they will not like it if they know about Devi.’

  Lakshmi nodded. ‘They will throw me out.’

  Matron nodded. ‘Stay with them. I know them. They will look after you.’

  ‘And my son, Daniel?’

  ‘You will never see Daniel again.’

  She was back on the floor of Shiro’s bedroom. It was Rasiah Periamma who was speaking. ‘You will never see Shiro …’

  Lakshmi howled. ‘Never see … Never see …’ she screamed in English.

  A couple of other Salvation Army women, dressed in the traditional dark blue sari and white high neck blouse with the red and gold ‘S’, came rushing down the corridor. Together with matron they bundled Lakshmi into the office. One of them pushed a glass of water and a white tablet into her hand. ‘Here, swallow this,’ she instructed.

  Lakshmi obeyed. What else was there to do? She would go back to Hemachandra Mudalali’s. Do her daily work.

  Lakshmi walked to the bus stop. This would be the last time she would come this way.

  No more Devi. Devi was dead.

  It felt like she was dead too.

  What purpose was there for living?

  Chapter 29

  April 1969 Nuwara-Eliya

  Melinda Kirkland’s tiny white fingers clutched 2-year-old Daniel’s olive brown ones. Together they tottered across the lawn of the manse. Daniel let go of the little hand nestled in his and continued his unsteady gait towards his adopted father. Melinda wobbled and plonked her nappy clad bottom on the wet grass of the lawn. Her tiny rosebud lips turned down and her brown eyes fill
ed with tears. Grace Kirkland laughed and scooped up her daughter. She walked to the veranda and handed Melinda to the nanny.

  ‘That was most unchivalrous behaviour, my son. I need to teach you how to treat a woman.’ Anthony put the tea cup down on the wrought iron table and picked up Daniel. The little boy nestled into his lap.

  Bob Kirkland cradled a mug of hot milky tea in the palms of his hands. His eyes met and held Anthony’s.

  Grace walked over to join them. ‘I’ll take Daniel,’ She eased him off Anthony’s lap. ‘You boys can catch up. Take your time.’

  The men watched Grace till she entered the manse.

  ‘So,’ Bob’s expression conveyed a mix of compassion and impatient curiosity. ‘You’re away for two years. We hardly hear from you except for an occasional card. Now you turn up with an adopted son. What’s the story? And as Grace said, take your time.’

  Anthony took a deep breath. ‘Okay, the beginning. Two years ago I obeyed my father’s orders. Two years, he said, when I went back. Two years with the company in London. I sat in the plush leather chair of the Mayfair offices of Oriental Produce reading the reports from the plantations, seeing the increasing profit margins, knowing that the blood and tears of the coolies and natives were filling the Ashley-Cooper coffers.’ He shook his head. ‘Every page reminded me of what I had done. I betrayed them. I said I would help. Then I ran away to do my father’s behest. I’m a Judas.’

  Bob put his mug down on the table. He reached out and curled his fingers on Anthony’s arm. This was how they had been when they shared their dreams as boys, sitting together by the river Wye in Bakewell. Bob tightened his grip, conveying unspoken love and friendship. Their friendship had lasted from childhood though university and adult life.

  Anthony shut his eyes and then blinked to hold back the tears. He hadn’t cried once since he left Watakälé. But here with Bob and Grace, he felt the wall he had built around his heart crumble. He looked over the lush green tea bushes and swallowed the tears.

  ‘Every morning I would wake up in my Knightsbridge flat and feel the lifeblood seep out of my heart. I would go through the motions of living, go home to the manor for weekends. Father and mother would be overly caring, protective. Dad would come fishing and riding with me. But it all felt unnatural, forced. Finally, I confronted them both. I think they too realised that I had hit rock bottom. Life in England was not for me. The truth – I insisted on the truth. I told them of the rumours I had heard on Watakälé, the innuendos of impropriety. I believed, stupidly, that I was strong enough for anything they would tell me.’

  Bob’s fingers tightened on Anthony’s arm. ‘Your father came to see me after he ordered you home. He knew the coolie girl was pregnant. I don’t know who told him, maybe Appu. He was upset, I would say even terrified. I explained clearly to your father that it was William not you who did it. I telephoned the doctor here who diagnosed and looked after Lakshmi’s pregnancy. He spoke to your father. He confirmed that Lakshmi had identified Udatänná Periadorai as the man who raped her. Your father was visibly relieved. Your father loves you very much, Anthony.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me about the pregnancy when I came to say goodbye to you?’

  Bob shook his head. ‘I couldn’t, Anthony. The Tea-maker Mr Rasiah and his wife, Lilly, asked me to keep it confidential. They couldn’t be seen to be helping her. It would have seemed like he or one of his sons were responsible. I arranged for the Salvation Army home to take her in. After the baby was born, Mr Rasiah arranged employment for her. Even I don’t know where she is now.’

  Anthony dropped his head and splayed his fingers over his eyes. ‘Father went to the Salvation Army home after he talked to you. He saw the coolie girl, Lakshmi. She was doing some sewing. She had looked up and their eyes had met briefly. That was when he knew.’

  Bob kept his fingers on Anthony’s arm. ‘Knew?’

  Anthony’s voice dropped to a tortured whisper. Bob leaned forward.

  ‘He said he knew by her eyes. He had seen her as a baby. Her father, Raman, brought her to him. The coolie demanded money to claim the child as his. Father gave it to him. I have seen Lakshmi but I didn’t pick the Ashley-Cooper slate grey eyes.’

  Bob was silent. Moments passed. ‘Anthony, I know.’ His voice gentled. ‘It’s common knowledge in Watakälé. Ramen offered his wife to your father. It was after your mother left for England. It’s a ruse the coolies use to get money from the superintendent.’

  ‘What else do you know, Bob? That my father came to the plantation as a young man and kept a coolie girl in the house? How he got her pregnant and then married Mum – his English rose. How he paid for the education of the Indian woman’s son – even his postgraduate medical training? I’m sorry, Bob, but I consider that behaviour totally reprehensible. Unforgivable.’

  Bob smiled. ‘You’re forgiven by God and therefore you too, can forgive Anthony.’

  ‘He made mother’s life miserable.’ A shudder ripped through Anthony’s body.

  Bob placed his other hand on Anthony’s head. It calmed him. ‘So there’s more?’

  ‘Once the cupboard was open, the skeletons were jostling each other to leap out. I insisted that father tell me why he was so relieved that it was William and not me who impregnated Lakshmi.’

  ‘And he said it was because William was not his son.’

  Anthony didn’t try to control his tears. ‘You knew that too?’

  ‘I work in the church, Anthony. People tell me things. Apparently your father was furious when your mother threw his Indian mistress out of the house. He ignored your mother – acting as if she wasn’t there. Set up the woman in a house in Diyatalāwa and went to her whenever he wanted to. There was Roger Hands, a trainee planter; a creeper. He was just eighteen. He was lonely and so was your mother. It’s a sad story. She got pregnant. Your father banished her to England. Where –’

  Anthony finished his sentence. ‘Where she had William.’

  ‘It doesn’t make the rape okay but at least Daniel is not the child of incest.’

  ‘Suddenly it all made sense, Bob. The way he treated William, encouraging him to be ruthless, selfish and greedy. Laughing at William’s affairs with the local girls. He started giving William whisky when he was just fourteen. I resented the attention he gave William. It’s only now that I understand what he did and why.’

  ‘Did your mother never object?’

  Anthony’s laugh was bitter. ‘Oh, she tried. I remember her begging him to discipline William, to teach him some boundaries. Father’s reply was that he would mould William to be an Ashley-Cooper. He always laughed when he said it.’

  ‘What was the tipping point, Anthony? What made you decide to make the break? Leave England and adopt your nephew, Daniel?’

  ‘Bob, when I left two years ago, you encouraged me and tried to help me see that something positive could come out of anything. And that God cared about my situation.’

  ‘Yes, I remember how angry you were. ’

  Anthony gazed over the tea bushes. His eyes cleared. He looked back at Bob. ‘I sat across from father and mother in the morning room of the manor. Dad outlined his plans for the future of Oriental Produce. I thought of your words. Maybe, just maybe, God is with me in planning my future.’ Anthony stopped.

  ‘And what would that future be, Anthony?’

  ‘Oriental Produce is pulling out of the tea plantations in Sri Lanka.’ Anthony got up and paced up and down the lawn.

  ‘I had heard rumours about it. How does that affect you?’

  Anthony stopped pacing and looked down at Bob. ‘I saw in my father’s eyes the spark of business brilliance that made the Ashley-Cooper Empire what it is today. And listening to him, I too, felt the stirring of excitement.’

  ‘Hey, don’t keep me in suspense!’

  Anthony smiled. ‘We are diversifying. Going into wine produc
tion.’

  Bob gasped. ‘Surely not replanting tea bushes here?’

  Anthony’s smile widened. ‘This is where it gets interesting. Not in Sri Lanka. The company’s looking at vineyards in South Australia.’

  ‘Wow. And where do you come into it?’

  Anthony’s voice took on a hint of irony. ‘Me? For the first time in my life, my father asked me, not ordered me! He suggested that I may be interested in taking over the project in South Australia.’

  Bob pushed out of his chair. He stood in front of Anthony and placed both hands on his shoulders. ‘Tea producer to wine maker?’

  ‘The term is Vigneron, Bob. The company is close to finalising a deal in the Barossa Valley area of South Australia. The estate has a couple of olive groves thrown in for good measure.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you need time to learn the art of being a winemaker or whatever it’s called?’

  ‘Remember Damian McNaughton?’

  Bob nodded, ‘The guy with the brains for big business.’

  ‘Yes. His family owns a large wine export company in South Australia. I will train under him while Oriental Produce sets up our vineyards.’

  ‘So you agreed to go to Australia?’

  ‘Yes. But this time, I laid down conditions.’

  ‘What conditions?’

  Anthony pointed to the veranda of the manse where Grace and the nanny were playing with Daniel and Melinda. ‘That he agrees to my adopting the boy and finding his mother, my sister, and taking them with me to Australia. The words stuck in his aristocratic throat, but he agreed. Now all I have to do is find Lakshmi.’

  ‘How do you plan to do that?’

  ‘I’ll start with William. Father wanted me to check up on him anyway.’

  Bob nodded. ‘Good idea, that. I’ve heard that his wife isn’t very happy …’

  Anthony grimaced. ‘Poor Janet. She had such good memories of growing up in Watakale with her sister and parents.’ He stopped and smiled. ‘I first met Shiro when I visited her father, my uncle Irvine.’ Bob watched as Anthony remained silent for a few moments. ‘Janet as good as proposed marriage to me before we first took over the plantations. Then married William when he went back on leave. I’ll check on her and see what William knows about Lakshmi. I have to find her and reunite her with her son.’